This Bed
by RhondaStar
Summary: A silly ClarisseJoe story courtesy of Posh & Stoneygem. WARNING: If you take this story seriously, you only have yourself to blame...


A CRAZY story by Posh & Stoneygem - we had a funny evening & wrote this - enjoy :-)

**This Bed**

Joseph Romerro, newly knighted, stretched out in the 'Queen sized' bed and sighed deeply. His life really was quite perfect; his wife was perfection personified, he was spoilt each and every day by her and by his surroundings. Never in his dreams had he imagined living like this.

Somebody collected his laundry and returned it, perfect; somebody cooked his every meal from grilled salmon fresh from the river to a cheese and tomato sandwich, perfect. Somebody polished his shoes, ordered his new socks, brought in his mail, even opened it for him if he wished it.

He was lying there in that divine bed, listening to Clarisse in the bathroom showering, sipping one of the finest whisky's in the world and yet somehow… somehow something was, well, lacking.

It was this bed. This damned bed.

It creaked. And it poked, if it wasn't too soft. Not that he minded the creaking. Admittedly, he quite liked the rhythmical squeaky sounds the feathers made, when Clarisse got into one of her moods again.

And this was actually the main reason why they simply had to have a new bed. This would no longer do.

They needed something more... well... something more creative.

Besides, he wiggled around a little; they had already worn out the mattress. Barely 6 months of marriage and they had already worn out the mattress. Damn, he was good

Clarisse flounced out of the room and smiled at him as she passed by the bottom of the bed. She moved to her dressing table and picked up a small tub of cream. He watched this routine every night, the application of the sacred night cream.

"Now, darling, I've been… thinking."

"A-ha." She murmured without looking up.

"This bed." He bounced on it to emphasise his point. "We need to change this bed."

"Dear it's an antique, we'll just order a new mattress." She quickly pushed his idea aside.

"No, it's not just the mattress." He bounced again. "It's the damn bed. I don't like it, I never have, all this…" He waved his free hand at the extravagantly shaped wood around his head.

She replaced her cream on the table. "Dear, are you feeling all right?"

"I'm perfectly fine. Perfectly… that's a nice dress."

"It's lingerie darling."

"Well, dahhhling…" He drawled as she closed the distance between them. "I want a new bed."

"Just how much have you had to drink?"

"A sip or two." He grinned, his cheeks flushed.

She smiled lifting the glass from his hand and took a very small sip. "Joseph this is very strong you know."

"I can take it." He sat up stretching his arms out and accidentally hitting his hand on the wooden posts.

She laughed and replaced the glass on the bedside table. "I think you're drunk."

He chuckled, "Care to join me in this position?"

"I have some things to do first."

"Whatever could that be?"

She raised her hand now holding the tube of hand cream.

He made a grab for the tube, but she was faster. "Oh no, darling. This is no toy for you."

She didn't know what had gotten into him, but frankly she didn't care. As she saw his face contort into a pout, a wicked smile came over her. This was going to be fun.

"Now Joseph, my dear sweet man, you really should climb into bed and go to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep in this damned bed."

"Well, I shall be sleeping in this 'damned bed', do you wish to sleep apart?"

He shook his head and watched her intently as she moved around the bed pulling back the top sheet and folding it down, then removed the unwanted pillows.

"Clarissssseeee…"

"Yes?"

"Will you buy me a new bed?"

She shook her head. "What kind of bed would you like?"

"A four-poster one." He exclaimed.

"This 'is' a four-poster."

"Yes, yes but it's old. I want a new one, just for me."

"And what about me?" She placed her hands on her hips staring down the bed at him.

"And you too, of course. A big one, dark wood, we could decorate the entire room."

"Joseph, there are a hundred four-poster beds in this palace, I'm not going to have one specially made. Now lift your feet in."

"I'm not tired, I want my bed, where's my drink?"

"No more drink, too much drink." She said gently.

He was pouting again, endearingly. "You're getting spoilt do you realise that?"

"Am not." He folded his arms.

"And you're all red," she climbed across the bed to him, letting her slippers fall to the floor. "Come here." She reached for his pyjama shirt. "You're over dressed my love."

Undoing the buttons was quick work and she pushed the sides away laying his chest open to her gaze and her hands. She liked what she saw. Licking her lips, she considered her options.

He had different ideas though. One of his hands had already gone to the straps of her nightgown, the other was stroking possessively over her side.

"What must I do to get my own bed?"

"We are not getting a new bed."

"But I want one."

"Joseph, stop that. We are not getting a new bed and that is final. And you should stop on that liquor. You are drunk."

"Why are you not?" he pouted.

She was getting exasperated. Didn't he know when to stop? She wanted to make love and he wanted to drink and argue about another bed. Oh bother, she needed a drink too.

The thought made her stop. Love - whisky - drink? Oh, what a delightful idea.

Leaning over him, making sure she touched him as she did so, she reached for the bottle on the bedside table.

Joseph's eyes widened as she uncorked the bottle and, very unladylike, took a drink direct from the bottle.

"My, my, sweetheart, you continue to surprise me."

She swallowed, pulled a face as the burning sensation slid down her throat, and shook her head. "I aim to please."

Now she kissed him, well attacked his mouth is closer to the truth. He hardly had time to respond because she pulled her body back from his again.

"Now, this bed discussion. I will consent to a new mattress, nothing more." She took another sip of whisky, more successfully this time. "I'm rather fond of this bed."

"Well. It's old."

"And that means?" She was straddling his legs, her thighs either side of his.

"Ahh, it means nothing… nothing, just, we could have something modern, more lively."

"Don't we make it lively?" Her mouth was hovering over his, her lips barely touching his.

"Mmm, yes." He reached forward to grasp her backside and kiss her but she pulled away again. Irritatingly so.

He watched as she sat back near the bottom of the bed and took another sip of whisky.

He lowered his eyes, damn she was sexy. "Share?"

"I don't think so." She shook her head and licked her lips; he felt his groin tighten as he watched.

He dragged himself up and knelt in front of her. She dangled the bottle in front of him and as he reached for it she snatched it back and leant to the side, placing it on the floor.

"No more for you Mister Joseph."

"Well, Mistress Clarisse?"

She raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly as he got closer. "Mistress?"

"Yes, I think…" He stopped dead in front of her and sighed deeply, regretfully. "I think, I'm going to have to punish you."

"Oh?"

"Oh indeed!" He raised the pillow above his head.

"Joseph…" she smiled. "Put the weapon down."

"Oh no, you've gone one step too far madam."

"From mistress to madam in one fail swoop." She dived past him but he caught her waist and held her down, playfully holding the pillow over her backside.

"Now apologise, or else?"

"Never."

"Well then, you've forced me to it. I want you to know I would have stopped if I could."

She giggled uncontrollably as he playfully hit her bottom with the pillow.

"That is for taking my whisky. And that is for being such a tease…"

"Ahh, I thought you enjoyed that, if I'd known otherwise I wouldn't have invested in so much new lingerie." She glanced over her shoulder at him, his eyes narrowed and he shook his head.

"That is for being so smart."

"Joe…."

"And this last one is for not getting me a new bed."

He hit her one last time then fell on top of her body joining in with her laughter, she felt his hands tickling her sides, his rather ardent desire against her leg. She wiggled against him and he kissed the back of her neck.

She swallowed. "Mmm, Joseph."

"Yes."

"You're squashing me…" She wiggled again.

He shifted his weight a little, bit down on her shoulder.

"Joseph…" She complained, stifling her giggles.

"You're beautiful, all these little freckles…" He tapped her bare arm, then kissed the top of her back, they go all the way down…"

"Stop, Joseph," She moved beneath him, twisting over so she could see his face. "Oh, get off of me."

"I thought you wanted to play?" He sulked.

"Oh I do, that's the point. Now get up." She pushed on his upper arms.

Complaining he pulled himself back from her body and knelt in front of her watching as she got up. She picked up his discarded pillow and hit him square in the chest.

"And that's for being a bad boy."

"Madam you are drunk too."

She laughed. "Hmm perhaps I am, now…" She threw the pillow to the top of the bed and picked up his pyjama shirt tightening it between her hands. "Time for pay back."

"And what exactly do you have in mind?"

"Well, follow the instructions and you'll find out."

"Will I need a drink first?"

"Oh yes. I think I might too."

Chuckling he found the whisky bottle and uncorked it offering it to her first, she took a drink closely followed by him.

"No, go on…" she waved her hand at him. "Lie back on the pillows."

"Yes ma'am." He saluted laughing. Yet he followed her instructions and moved himself up to the top of the bed and lay back folding his arms beneath his head. "Do your worse." He proclaimed.

She smiled rebelliously and climbed on top of him, sitting on his chest.

"Oh god Clarisse," he breathed deeply. "What are you doing?"

She leant over his face. "You'll see. Now lift your arms."

Cautiously he followed her instructions then almost burst into pleasurable laughter as he realised her intentions. She was tying him to the damned bed!

"HA!" He grinned. "And what do you have planned my dear?"

"Planned? Well…" She tightened the knot and sat back satisfied. "I planned to turn the lamp off…"

"Yes…"

"Remove my robe and climb into bed."

"Yes…"

"And go to sleep."

"Yes… what?"

She giggled. "Goodnight Joseph."

"Goodnight? What… you can't leave me like this."

"I know, I was planning on covering you up, don't want you to get cold now do we my little sweetie pie." She tapped his nose with her finger.

"But Clarisse, honey, I thought we were going to."

"What?"

"You know… have some fun together."

"Oh, in this bed?"

"Yes."

"This bed you don't like."

"Yes… ah, but well, you know, I can make do."

"One wouldn't expect somebody of your stature to simply 'make do'. So I think the best thing for all involved is no more relations until we have your new bed installed. Don't you agree?"

"Then why this?" He asked pulling on his ties.

"Well, that is your punishment for your little pillow diabolical." She shrugged. "And also with you hating the bed so much I don't want you sneaking off on me in the middle of the night."

"Never."

"I know never because you're trapped, now…" she kissed his forehead making sure her breasts pressed against his chest. "Sleep well dear."

"Sleep well?"

He watched as Clarisse slipped her robe off, climbed into bed, switched the lamps off and lay down next to him. He waited for a few seconds in the darkness, sure she was playing and would suddenly start laughing and set him free, or better still not set him free and continue the little game.

When she didn't move after five whole minutes he shook his arms frustrated.

"Something wrong?"

"Yes there's something wrong, all the blood is going to drain from my arms and then they'll fall off."

At this she did laugh. "That would be problematic."

"It sure would. Set me free."

"No, not until you apologise for your misguided comments about this bed."

"But it's true."

"Then you stay there."

"Ohhhh…. But Clarisse, honey… sweetie…"

"Don't creep."

He sighed frustrated and was quiet again for a few minutes mulling things over.

"Clarisse, my little honey bunch, my little apple pie…"

"It's no use."

"Oh but come on darling, you know you love me and just think if I have no hands I won't be able to touch you…" he dropped his voice to a whisper. "You know, in all the places you liked to be touched."

"Such as?"

"Simple things, holding your hand as we walk, dancing on our own in that huge ballroom, washing your hair in the bath…" He nudged his lower body closer to hers. "Carrying you to bed, touching your mouth, sliding my hands down your body and lifting your body up to mine, holding your exquisite breasts… feeling your warm thighs with the palm of my hand and…"

"Stop, enough."

"Will you set me free?"

She took a deep breath then sat up again. "And this bed?"

"Has its merits I'll admit."

She raised an eyebrow. "Merits?"

"Yes, you're in it."

"And that's just a merit?"

"No, that's heaven."

She smiled. "You're far too charming." She moved on top of him again, grinding her body into his. "Oh, I think you're rather enjoying being tied up."

"Perhaps a little."

"Only a little?" She pressed down on him.

"Ahh, maybe a little bit more… but."

"But?"

"I like to touch you too much."

She leant forward kissing his mouth languidly, touching his tongue with her own, sweet and delicious and feeling rather naughty as she did so.

"I like you touching me too." She whispered against his mouth.

Her hands slid up his bare arms to the ties and gently tugged them loose.

He quickly dropped his arms to his side closing his eyes. "Oh thank goodness, I thought I was dying."

"Do they still work?"

"Does what still work?" He glanced at her quizzically.

She laughed. "I said do 'they' still work, I know 'that' still works, I can feel it."

He smiled. "Oh you can, can you, well lucky for you I'm regaining the feeling in my hands."

"Lucky? You're the lucky one."

He watched amazed as she lifted the silk nightgown from her body and threw it across the room, then quickly relieved him of his black boxers.

"Now my darling…" She smiled cheekily leaning down over him, kissing his open mouth. "What did you call me, honey pie?"

"Bunch," he croaked. "Honey bunch. Apple pie."

"Ahh, do I remind you of food?"

"Only that, I want to eat you all up."

She laughed. "Oh dear, oh, I feel quite light headed."

"Good," he smoothed her hair back. "Good, it's wonderful to hear you laugh."

"Mmm, would you like another drink?"

"No."

"No?"

"No." He clasped his arms around her back bringing her body down full length against his. "No, I want to make love to my wife in our bed."

"The bed is forgiven?

"The bed is adored."

"Good. And do the hands still work?"

He squeezed her behind. "I think so."

"Then perhaps you'd like to illustrate a few of the points you were saying earlier."

"Hmm, perhaps I will."

"Only perhaps." She sat up again leaning back so her thighs rubbed against him.

He closed his eyes exhaling slowly. "Sweet torture."

She rested her hands on his chest holding herself up, moving down his body, eyes half closed as she held him and lowered herself down taking him inside her completely.

He gasped.

She smiled.

Mission accomplished.


End file.
